


Reasons Why

by LazyWriterGirl



Series: Femslash February 2017 - I Write Best When I'm Writing Gay [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Camilla Smokes a Kiseru, Camilla Uses Too Many Pet Names, F/F, Femslash February 2017, Prompt: Fume, Selena is Also Very Gay, Selena is Confused, Selena is Trying to be a Lady Gods Damn It, why did i do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyWriterGirl/pseuds/LazyWriterGirl
Summary: “Selena, dear, please tell me, need there always be a reason why I do the things I do?”Or, Camilla smokes for many reasons, but only ever with her Hoshidan pipe, and Selena begins to make a list in her head of all the reasons why.Femslash February Prompt 1/12 - Fume





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Fire Emblem Fates, or any of its characters, settings, etc. All errors linguistic and otherwise are my own.

 

Selena is no stranger to the fumes of a pipe.

 

Though her mother had never done it, never even tried, she had not stopped Selena’s father from indulging in what Cordelia would often call “his one vice”. Not even after Seve—Selena’s birth. Some of Selena’s earliest memories still smell faintly of the fumes of her father’s pipe, if she remembers hard enough.

After her parents…left…Selena had been able to keep only small knick-knacks, things that could be carried in one hand or shoved hastily into tight pockets—or sometimes, if she were lucky, a small pouch—in case of an ambush. From her mother’s things, she’d taken the wedding ring, which she wears even now on a chain around her neck, and a small charm shaped like a pegasus. From her father’s things, she’d taken his pipe. She’s not sure why; the habit had never appealed to her.

 

She remembers the nights before she, Laslow (Inigo), and Odin (Owain) came to Nohr. The nights after a Risen ambush, when she and the other children of the Shepherds had huddled together around a small fire and prayed for a miracle that would not come. Sometimes on those nights, she would take out her father’s pipe and scrounge about for what scraps she could find; a feeble attempt at imitating what she remembered. She’d play at the experience, packing down the cheaply made tobacco that was all they had left—little more than dirt, really—in the way she’d seen her father do. She would never get very far before giving up and emptying the contents onto the ground.

 

Selena does not miss those days, though she still carries the pipe.

 

Well…not carries, really. It’s not the sort of thing one would wisely carry, especially given her line of work. No, she doesn’t _carry_ her father’s pipe, per se. Instead, she keeps it in a box with her mother’s charm; it’s too bulky, too rounded and bent, to fit safely (or comfortably) in her mercenary clothes.

She doesn’t have a use for it as anything other than a memento, anyway, so a box in her room is the best place for it.

Still, she takes it out sometimes, like right now. She never smokes it, still not interested in the habit, still unappreciative of the art. Instead, she studies it, tries to remember what it had looked like held in her father’s hand; hugs it to her chest sometimes. Imagines that her father will walk in at any minute, her mother a step behind him, and will ask her, “Selena?” (no, _Severa_ , her father would say) “May I have my pipe now, sweetheart?”

 

A knock at her door is enough to startle her out of her thoughts, and she fumbles with the pipe in her hands before calling out, “What is it?” She winces at the roughness of her tone, but it’s too late to do anything about that. And besides, it’s late; whoever’s at the door is asking for a bit of rudeness.

It’s only been a few weeks, but by now the palace staff are used to her gruff nature, and whoever is behind the door only coughs once, gently, before saying, “Lady Camilla wishes to see you, Miss Selena.” Ah, it’s only a maid. From the sounds of it, a more established member of the staff, seeing as how she doesn’t question the timing of Camilla’s request or the reason why Selena is still awake.

Selena relaxes slightly, transferring the pipe to her left hand as her right moves up to fiddle with her hair. “Now?”

“Yes, Miss Selena.”

“Okay. Um, thanks.”

She gets up, checking her appearance over in the mirror. Selena does not know why Lady Camilla would summon her so late, but it is not as if this has not happened before. Her mistress is known for sending for either of her retainers at all hours of the night, sometimes for little more than to wish them a good night’s sleep.

At the very least, she’s thankful that this time she has yet to change out of her day-clothes; walking the hallways of Castle Krakenburg in nothing more than her nightgown had been a rather…unpleasant experience.

 

It isn’t until she’s knocked on her lady’s door that Selena realizes her father’s pipe is still clutched in her hand, but it is too late to go back to her own room to put it away. The door opens. Lady Camilla stands before her clad in nothing but a thin nightgown. It’s beautiful and rather expensive looking, a deep violet in colour—though not so deep that Selena’s eyes miss the even darker shapes of Lady Camilla’s smallclothes underneath.

Selena cannot help the blush that rises to her cheeks. Though she has already seen her lady in even less than this, it is still mildly scandalizing every time. In some ways, she thinks, she’s still very much the prissy girl who’d yelled at Kjelle to cover up her abs, even though she’d had no real reason to so much as _look_ in the knight’s direction.

No real reason other than _wanting_ to look…

 “I didn’t know you smoked a pipe, Selena, dear.”

“What?” Selena jolts upright, getting into a stiff, correct stance. Her fist tightens around her father’s pipe. “I…oh, I don’t,” she says, blushing a bit more. “It’s not…it’s nothing. A-anyway, you called for me, Lady Camilla?” she asks, knowing that she must sound ridiculous because _of course_ Lady Camilla had called for her. For her part the princess only laughs, though there is a newly lit curiosity in her gaze as she eyes Selena’s father’s pipe once more.

“Of course, darling,” Lady Camilla says after a second of silence, “But please, do come in. I wouldn’t want to keep a pretty girl like you out in the cold hall.”

Selena obeys, relaxing the tight grip she has on her father’s pipe as she steps into the centre of the room. It smells faintly of something unfamiliar, she notices, something other than the distinctive, yet surprisingly simple tones of her lady’s perfume. There’s also a slight film over the place, she thinks; no, not a film…more like a bit of a fog.

Fumes from a pipe?

“I’m so sorry to drag you out at this hour, darling, but it would appear that you were not yet asleep. Is something the matter?” Lady Camilla asks, ever the concerned mistress.

There’s something in the princess’ well-crafted pout that begs to be told all of one’s troubles, but Selena cannot…she simply cannot afford to be so honest. Selena’s eyes drift down, unable to meet her lady’s, for fear that she will say something stupid and entirely too personal to be of interest. Her gaze catches sight of a long, slim instrument held gently between her lady’s fingers. The black wood and burnished silver look…distinctively foreign, even without scrutiny, and for a second Selena cannot even think to guess at what it is. After a moment, she thinks she might have the answer.

A pipe?

If it is, Selena has never seen one of such a make.

Lady Camilla follows her gaze and smiles, lifting the instrument to her lips. It is almost _certainly_ a pipe, as Selena can tell by how thin curls of smoke rise from it when the older woman brings it to her lips. “Do you like my _kiseru_?”

“Your…what? I mean…pardon?” Selena has never heard that word before.

“Ah, it’s a traditional Hoshidan pipe, darling girl,” Lady Camilla explains, taking a small pull from the kiseru as if to demonstrate. “It does not hold much, you can see, and requires a special leaf to burn, a leaf which comes from Hoshido alone and is rather difficult to come by here; but I find that I much prefer it to Nohrian pipes for precisely these reasons.”

“You don’t often smoke your…kiseru, then, Lady Camilla?”

“You may refer to it simply as a Hoshidan pipe, darling, if the word proves strange on your tongue.” Selena nods, though she has already decided to practice the word—in secret, perhaps—until she can say it as naturally as her mistress. “And as for your question, no, my adorable retainer, I do not smoke too often. There is a certain level of ceremony…a proper way to do things, you see, and most days I do not feel the desire to perform them, simple though they are. I find that I _do_ turn to it on occasion, of course. Mostly when I am…rather stressed, I suppose.”

There it is, Selena thinks, the reason why her lady has summoned her here tonight. “Ah. What’s wrong? Is there anything that I can do to help you, my lady?”

Lady Camilla smiles at her. Takes another small, thoughtful puff from her Hoshidan pipe. “My father tells me that tomorrow I am to head south, to quash the beginnings of a small rebellion. Sadly, my dear Beruka has been placed elsewhere for some _strange_ reason, and I must make do without her. Would _you_ be willing to come with me?”

Selena is confused.

As her mistress, Lady Camilla need not ask her anything; she need only say the word, and Selena would gladly do as she has ordered. Still, it is…rather touching to think that Lady Camilla has thought to ask her personally to do this, and Selena is _flattered_. “O-of course! It would be my pleasure,” she says, though really she doesn’t get much joy out of fighting. Hard to get joy out of something so _easy._

If she can impress Lady Camilla though…well, that would be reward enough, she thinks.

“I was so _hoping_ you’d say that, darling.” Lady Camilla takes one last puff from her kiseru, staring wistfully down its length, before smiling at her and nodding in dismissal. “I will see you by the stables then, tomorrow. Bright and early.” Selena bows and turns to leave, but not before Lady Camilla adds, in a voice as thick and sweet as honey, “And next time, Selena, dear, I do hope you will feel more at ease around me. There’s no need to be so formal. Just be yourself.”

 

 

 

Later, as she undresses and finally climbs into her bed, Selena realizes that she has learned a few new things about her lady. That her lady smokes a pipe. That her lady smokes a _Hoshidan_ pipe. That her lady smokes a Hoshidan pipe when she is stressed.

 

She doesn’t know why she’s so happy about such small discoveries, but she is.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The next time Selena sees Camilla’s slim Hoshidan pipe it is about a month later, in the middle of a lazy day—lazy, at least, for the Nohrian royals.

There are no rebellions to quash, no skirmishes to enter, and so Selena finds herself being sent off about the city with Beruka; Lady Camilla has a list of errands that need doing. These last all of a few hours before they are completed, and when she and Beruka return to their mistress for further instructions, they are surprised at the sight that greets them.

Well, Selena is surprised—if only slightly. Beruka, who has served for much longer than Selena’s two months, does not even blink.

 

Come to think of it, Selena isn’t entirely sure that Beruka possesses the ability _to_ blink.

 

Lady Camilla is draped over her chaise and dressed in a long, though clearly expensive robe; her feet are bare, her head bereft of its crown, and she looks…younger, somehow; not terribly young, but _younger._ The thin Hoshidan pipe—in all it’s polished-black-wood-and-burnished-silver-glory—is held between her fingers in the same manner as Selena had seen once before. “Ah, hello, my darlings. Is there a problem?”

“No, Lady Camilla, but we have finished your errands,” says Beruka with a stiff nod of her head.

Selena, not one to be outdone even though she is not yet fully accustomed to this strange new life of hers, repeats the motion—though with more grace than her fellow retainer had spared. “Will there be anything else, Lady Camilla?”

The princess’ mouth pulls gently against her Hoshidan pipe, and she shakes her head. “No,” she says in her lilting voice, fumes of smoke pouring from her lips. “That will be all for today. You are free to spend the rest of the day as you wish, my dears.”

“Very well, Lady Camilla,” says Beruka, beating Selena to her words once again. “If you have need of me, I shall be nearby.”

“I don’t doubt that, Beruka, darling,” says Camilla, a note of teasing in her voice. The smile she wears as her blue-haired retainer bows and leaves lingers, and Selena fidgets with her hands, unsure of how to excuse herself.

Something about Lady Camilla in these quiet moments, when she is not armoured nor armed, make her seem even more off-putting in Selena’s eyes. Not quite _dangerous_ , no…but something close to that. When the lady’s one visible eye falls on her, Selena shivers. _Gods_ , could this be…?

“Selena, dear, is there a problem?”

“N-no! Not at all, Lady Camilla,” she says, bending so deeply at the waist that the tips of her pigtails touch her mistress’s floor. She is about to leave, embarrassed, when something whispers to her. Some sort of…thought. And she knows that it isn’t _proper_ , but…well, Lady Camilla doesn’t seem to mind a bit of impropriety from her retainers. “I actually…”

“Yes, darling?” Lady Camilla starts, leaning forward slightly.

Were she anybody else, Selena would think that her lady was trying to be provocative, except that Lady Camilla does not need to _try_ for that. She’s just being…an engaged listener.

That’s what Selena tells herself.

“Are you stressed about something, Lady Camilla?”

The woman’s laugh is rich and heavy, like the rings of smoke that surround her face as she exhales. “Now darling, why would you think that?”

“You…I’m sorry for intruding, Lady Camilla,” Selena says, before remembering that her mistress had once asked her to be herself. She takes a deep breath, then tries again. “You told me that you don’t smoke your pipe unless you’re stressed. Is there something you need me to take care of for you?”

Lady Camilla eyes her a moment, and Selena is frightened. This woman could break her in half without much effort. She is formidable herself, of course, the best at what she does, but Lady Camilla…is something else entirely. Selena wouldn’t want so powerful a lady to be upset with her, and she is about to ask for forgiveness for her insolence when her mistress stands, the Hoshidan pipe held just straight enough that no embers fall from the small bowl at the end. “Why, I’m thrilled that you are so concerned for me, but I’m fine.” A soft hand smelling faintly of the burning Hoshidan leaves touches Selena’s cheek. “I should mention, though, that I also tend to smoke when I am idle, dear.”

Selena nods; her father had done it predominantly for that purpose. “Very well then, Lady Camilla. I’ll leave you to it. Call me if you need anything.”

“You should join me some time, my precious girl,” says Lady Camilla, bringing the Hoshidan pipe back up to her lips. “You have a pipe of your own, don’t you?”

Selena looks back. Offers a smile though she shakes her head. “It…I don’t use it. It’s…It was my father’s. It’s just a memento, now.” She winces as she says it; the words are laced with too much sadness.

Too much sentimentality.

Selena hopes that her mistress is not paying close enough attention to notice how her eyes have dropped to the floor. She knows that Lady Camilla will not be angry, no, but she might very well get it into her head to _pity_ , and Selena does not want her lady’s pity. She sniffs, just a bit, and curses herself for it, unsure why she does not just leave her mistress’ room.

 

Gods, and she’d thought she was getting better at hiding her feelings about her father…about her parents and her world before Nohr.

 

Apparently, she has not improved as much as she’d thought.

 

“Oh, Selena,” says Lady Camilla. The tone is saddened, yes, but not patronizingly so, and Selena looks up in time to see her mistress put one hand against her mouth, the Hoshidan pipe still suspended in her grasp with the other. Were it anybody else, Selena would say they looked comical, but Lady Camilla still carries an air of power and class about her though her eyes are wide and she looks extremely apologetic. “My darling, I—

“No, it’s fine, Lady Camilla,” Selena says, because it _is_. “I just never really got into the habit, I guess. Good day, Lady Camilla.”

She expects that her mistress will have some need for her later—such is usually the case—but when no maids come to fetch her, Selena relaxes. She takes her father’s pipe out of the box, fingers pausing on her mother’s charm before she puts the lid back on. Selena doesn’t think she’s ever really going to smoke her father’s pipe, but just having it in her hands is soothing.

Reassuring.

She wonders if she should give it a try, if doing so would ingratiate her further with her lady, but she does not want to pick up a new habit merely for the sake of impressing Lady Camilla. Her skills on the battlefield—and her ever-deepening devotion—should prove sufficient towards that cause.

 

As she prepares for bed that night, she finds that she has learned yet another thing about her lady; that her lady smokes her Hoshidan pipe when she is idle.

 

Again, she wonders why she should feel such joy at something so small.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

She has served under Lady Camilla for six months before Selena first sees her mistress well and truly agitated while not on the battlefield. Six months. Precisely the amount of time it takes her to realize that she doesn’t simply admire her mistress so much as wish to be… _with_ her mistress.

Selena is mortified at the thought, but not exactly shocked. She can’t blame herself, really. Anybody would have fallen for her mistress, spending as much time with her as Selena has. Anybody would succumb to the strength of Lady Camilla’s allure.

 

And if this little infatuation of hers only amuses Laslow and Odin—both of whom _insist_ that they knew it, claiming she has a “weakness” for strong princesses—well, then they can just _go away._

 

Stupid.

 

Anyway, Selena only really realizes that she’s in it a bit too deeply with her emotions _because_ of the night that she sees Lady Camilla upset. It’s not because of any strange fetish or anything like that, but…oh, it’s difficult to explain.

It happens on a night like any other, really. She’s cleaning her father’s pipe—more for something to do than because it needs cleaning—when she hears the voice of her mistress out in the hallway. Lady Camilla never raises her voice in the halls, not even when she’s calling out to Lady Elise or Lord Leo, so Selena is concerned. What’s worse, her lady sounds _vexed_ , to put it mildly. The kind of vexed that usually ends up with her lady’s axe sticking out of somebody’s body...and blood.

Immediately Selena reaches for her sword, unsheathing it as she rushes out of her room. “Lady Camilla!”

Her mistress turns, and Selena breathes easier. A messenger cowers before Camilla, but he is one of theirs, he is unarmed and unhurt, and her lady looks more irritated than anything, but otherwise safe. “Ah, Selena, dear, I’m so sorry to have disturbed you. There is no need for alarm, precious girl. You may return to your room.” Despite the gentleness of her lady’s voice the last words are an order, not a request.

“Yes, Lady Camilla,” she says, nodding. She casts a sympathetic glance towards the messenger, but _honestly_? She’s glad that it’s him and not her. Selena would rather fight off an army of Risen than anger Lady Camilla—and _Naga above_ knows that she never wants to see one of _those_ again.

Selena closes her door after entering her room, but she can still hear her lady’s voice, more controlled now; perhaps, she thinks—hopes—for her benefit. When Lady Camilla speaks, muttering out directives that Selena can’t quite make out, her tone is taut and yet still charming. Whatever news the messenger has brought, it can’t have been good, but it is not catastrophic.

 

Selena knows it’s none of her concern, but she listens at the door for a few moments before getting bored.

 

A short while later she thinks that she hears sniffling and whimpers, and yet the unmistakeable thud of skin—or metal—on cloth never comes. Instead there is the anxious tap-tapping of feet that barely touch the ground due to the speed of the runner, and Selena knows that the messenger will be very careful to follow her lady’s every instruction as carefully as possible. She settles back onto her bed, picking up her father’s pipe once more, but is stopped by a gentle knocking sound at her door.

“Yes?”

“Selena, darling? Would you please escort me to my room?”

She knows better than to deny her mistress such a simple request, even though Lady Camilla has never asked this of her before. Holding back the sigh that attempts to escape her—more out of habit than annoyance, really—she puts her father’s pipe back in its box and steps out of her room, unsurprised to find Lady Camilla standing just outside.

“Shall we, Lady Camilla?” she asks, smiling slightly when her mistress nods at her.

For what it’s worth, her mistress _looks_ serene once more, but Selena knows what to search for by now, knows where to direct her eyes to catch the hidden frustration on Lady Camilla’s face. It’s in the tense set of her jaw, in the faint lines written across her forehead that normally have no place there. “I’m so sorry you had to see and hear me that way, darling,” says her mistress, as if anticipating what Selena’s next words might be.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Lady Camilla,” Selena says. “Honestly whatever he did, he probably deserved it.”

Lady Camilla’s laugh is as rich as ever, though a bit subdued so as not to wake any sleepers in the rooms they pass. “I’m not so faultless, Selena dear. It truly wasn’t _his_ fault, poor man. I shall have to make it up to him somehow.”

Selena can tell when her lady is being less than truthful, though she holds her tongue. She waits until they’ve made it to Lady Camilla’s door before she bothers even trying to speak. “So…will that be all, Lady Camilla?”

“Please, my sweet girl, stay, just a little? I’m simply so tired I don’t think I could undress myself if I tried…”

“I-I…do you want me to call a maid for you?”

Lady Camilla pouts at her and Selena knows that one way or another, she certainly won’t be calling a maid. “Please Selena, help me? You’ve helped me before.”

And it’s true that she has, except that was before she started to notice that certain _feelings_ she’s been having for her mistress echo certain _other feelings_ she’s had for a different princess. _Now…_ well, now she imagines that this will be right up there on her list of self-torturous activities; yes, right up there along with all those times she’d held her not-quite-Exalt’s hand and told her that Selena—no, _Severa_ —would follow her until the end, no matter what.

“O-okay,” she mutters, because it isn’t like she really has a choice. She follows her mistress, shutting the door behind them as gently as she can manage. Lady Camilla moves slowly, coming to a stop in the centre of her room, and Selena has to pause a moment to suck in a breath. This isn’t a big deal.

It shouldn’t be.

It feels like one.

Lady Camilla smiles at her, the gesture not quite reaching the older woman’s eyes, but Selena nods and tries for a small smile back before starting with the clasps that hold her mistress’ armour together. Really, it’s a lot more complicated than it looks, but Selena has had experience with this sort of thing—during her brief days as a wyvern lord Lucina had worn something similar—and really, it’s not like she's too dumb to figure it out or anything.

She’s distracted tonight, though. Distracted because she knows that she’ll never be able to do this as a prelude to certain _other_ activities; activities that she is trying desperately hard not to think about. She knows that a relationship between herself and her mistress would never happen; knows it almost as well as she knows how to run a sword through an enemy’s gut.

It couldn’t happen.

It won’t happen.

This is torture.

Selena helps Lady Camilla out of the get-up slowly, not because she wants to linger, but because she does not want to scratch her mistress’ fair skin. Selena almost wishes that she hadn’t been the one to respond to Lady Camilla’s anger first. Beruka wouldn’t have been embarrassed to do this.

Selena doesn’t think that Beruka _can_ feel embarrassment.

“What’s wrong, Selena dear?”

“N-nothing, Lady Camilla,” she says as she wrests the last pieces of armour off her lady’s form. Her cheeks are instantly warm, and she turns away both to afford the princess her privacy and to save herself from further glimpses of perfection she won’t ever get to touch the way she wants to. “If that will be all, Lady Camilla, I’ll be returning to my room.”

“Of course, darling,” says Lady Camilla. “Sleep well, Selena…I’m sorry, again.”

“No need for apologies, Lady Camilla,” Selena says, bowing when her mistress turns. The slim body of the Hoshidan pipe is visible in the older woman’s grasp, along with a box that Selena assumes must hold the special leaves required for smoking a kiseru. “Goodnight, Lady Camilla.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

 

Selena walks back to her room alone, and it is not until she settles underneath her covers that she realizes that she has uncovered yet another thing about her mistress; her lady, it appears, smokes her Hoshidan pipe when she is agitated.

 

At least now Selena knows why every little thing she discovers about her lady brings her that much more joy…even if it’s for a reason she _desperately_ wishes were untrue.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Within the next year, Selena uncovers more and more reasons for her mistress’ use of her Hoshidan pipe, mostly without meaning to do so. With every new reason, there is another facet of her lady’s personality that is exposed to her, and the mercenary finds herself just a little more enamoured with her mistress every day. She cannot decide if that is a good thing or not.

 

One evening she walks in to Lady Camilla’s room to give a report, only to find her lady pacing back and forth, still fully dressed in her armour. One arm is wrapped around herself, the other held taut to keep the Hoshidan pipe steady as Lady Camilla’s lips close around the tip. One puff. The fumes of the burning Hoshidan leaves have become familiar to Selena by now, and she is able to breathe them in without feeling so much as a slight tingle in her throat. “Lady Camilla?”

“Ah! There you are, darling. What does the report say?”

“Lord Xander and Lord Leo have reached the checkpoint safely, and wish to send you their love,” she says, no longer embarrassed by the personal nature of the messages she is to deliver to her lady. “They also wish to send their apologies, as they will most likely be in Cheve for a month longer than anticipated.”

“A month?” Lady Camilla asks, and Selena recognizes the notes of sadness in her mistress’ voice. “And here I’d been making plans to visit my darling Corrin…well, I suppose that will have to wait.”

“Is there anything you need from me?” Selena would do anything to make her lady smile.

“No, my darling girl,” Lady Camilla says, setting herself down at her desk. “Although…if you wouldn’t mind, I would like the company. You haven’t got something else to do, have you, dear?”

“No, Lady Camilla…I can stay,” Selena says.

She doesn’t want to, except that she _does_ , except that she shouldn’t, except that this is a request from her mistress so she technically _should_ …ugh. Selena doesn’t allow her inner turmoil to stop her from taking the seat that Lady Camilla offers to her. She doesn’t allow it to stop her from watching her lady’s deft fingers roll Hoshidan leaves into a ball, making a tiny roof of even more leaves before packing them tightly into the bowl of her Hoshidan pipe.

The woman looks so lonely as she does these things. Looks lonelier still as she strikes a match and sets the leaves ablaze. Selena feels for her mistress in a way that she had not thought possible for her anymore. Stupidly, she had believed—even after all this time in Nohr—that she and her fellow Ylisseans held the monopoly on sadness.

Selena hates that she has been proven wrong, but more than that, she pities. She pities her beautiful, powerful, prideful mistress. Pities a princess who does not require such feelings from a retainer with no name, nor past, nor fortune.

 

Lady Camilla smokes when she is sad, and as Selena watches her lady, her heart twinges just a little.

 

Selena is careful around her mistress for a few days after that, until things have returned to normal and Lady Camillia is her smiling-and-teasing-self once more. She throws herself into what little work she’s given, training diligently whenever she is not otherwise occupied. On occasion, she stops to venture to her lady’s side, asking if she needs anything. Lady Camilla never has anything for her to do, but she does ask if Selena can stay with her. More often than not, she does.

 

One night, she is sent down to the kitchens to get two pitchers of ale; that is the directive issued. Nothing more. Lady Camilla, as it would appear, is not in the best of moods.

Her lady does not drink often, but Selena is observant—perhaps a little too closely so, not that anybody would question—and she knows what her lady likes best. When she brings the pitcher to her mistress’ room Lady Camilla is already dressed down, prepared for the night. Beruka is present, ever-watchful…and so is Laslow. Come to think of it, she’d noticed Peri outside her mistress’ door, as well.

Why?

At first Selena is confused, until she notices Lord Xander sitting off to the side. He nods at her, and she bows slightly in return.

“Milady,” Selena says, feeling strangely formal in the presence of the future king of Nohr. “Will that be all, milady?”

“Yes. Beruka, dear?” Lady Camilla asks, and Beruka steps forward. “You may get some rest now, darling. Selena will take over, won’t you dear?”

“Of course, Lady Camilla,” she says, moving over to where Laslow stands. He winks at her when nobody is looking—though she thinks Beruka _must_ have noticed—and she wishes that she could just _hit_ him.

But they’re not supposed to be that familiar.

“I shall be outside, Lady Camilla,” Beruka says before bowing to the prince. “Goodnight, Lord Xander.”

Selena nods to her fellow retainer and stands at attention. The eldest prince and princess of Nohr seem to be having a family meeting of sorts, and from what she can tell it is about Hoshido, or perhaps about Corrin. She does not care to listen, really, but she does care to notice when her lady starts to slip in her speech just a bit.

Nohrian ale is strong, _very_ strong, and her lady, though a formidable drinker, has not eaten properly tonight.

Another two pitchers are sent for, though this time Laslow goes to fetch them, and while waiting for his return Lady Camilla pulls out her kiseru. To Selena’s surprise, Lord Xander grins at the sight of the Hoshidan pipe.

“You still have it?”

“Of course, darling brother.”

“Do you still have the leaves?”

“I’ve recently restocked.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

“Of course not, brother dear.”

Selena watches as Lord Xander pulls his own pipe—a well-polished black one of Nohrian make—and soon the room is covered in thick rings of smoke. Selena shifts to stand as far away as she can from Lord Xander’s chair; the fumes of the Nohrian tobacco are a bit too strong, a bit too harsh for her tastes.

 

She cannot fault him for this, of course. Her father, too, had smoked after drinking a good part of the night away on many an occasion. Still, her father’s tobacco had been amongst the milder variations, perhaps due to her mother’s caution following her birth. Lord Xander, understandably, would not share in Selena’s mother’s concerns, but the smell of his tobacco is not a good one.

Perhaps, if she smoked herself, she would appreciate it; but as it is she cannot stand it.

“Are you feeling alright, my dear Selena?”

Selena, normally not embarrassed by her lady’s pet names, is sure that her cheeks are as red as her hair. She tries to meet her mistress’ gaze, but the flush on Lady Camilla’s cheeks is distracting, and she can’t think clearly. Selena looks away before mumbling, “Yes, Lady Camilla.” She looks up and instantly wishes she hadn’t, finding her focus drawn to Lady Camilla’s eye.

Her mistress searches her face for a moment before nodding and turning back to Lord Xander. Laslow returns shortly after, and Selena finds her eyes being pulled towards the Hoshidan pipe time and time again. Why is it so important to her lady? Why does she prefer it to a pipe of her own country’s making?

What about it is so special that even Lord Xander is aware—and almost _fond_ —of its existence?

Once she and her mistress are alone, Selena realizes that it will be her responsibility to help the other woman into her bed, and all questions not pertaining to the care of her lady are ignored. “Lady Camilla? Can you stand?”

“Of course, dear,” says her mistress, but Selena moves to hold the other woman steady when it becomes clear that she cannot stay upright of her own free will. Lady Camilla is tall and muscled, and though Selena is strong for her size it is a bit of a struggle to half-guide, half-carry her towards her bed.

After an embarrassing amount of bodily contact and fumbling, Selena manages to get her lady onto the mattress, and she is about to excuse herself when Camilla’s hand wraps around her wrist. “Selena, dear, I noticed something,” says the princess, her voice quiet and a bit slurred. Still unashamedly charming, though, Selena notes with what she hopes is not an ugly scowl on her lips.

“Yes?”

“You were eyeing my kiseru quite a bit, darling…is something wrong?”

She has been in the princess’ employ for a year and a half now; if she cannot be honest with Lady Camilla at this point there is something wrong with her. Selena takes a deep breath. Her mind whispers back to her not to be afraid; her lady has pardoned her brashness and her impropriety and her prodding for this long; she is not likely to stop now. “Why do you only smoke your… _kiseru_?”

Camilla smiles at her pronunciation—a small victory, in Selena’s book—and when she speaks again her voice is not as slurred. “You know of my darling Corrin, right?”

“Yes, Lady Camilla.”

“Well, once, when Corrin was young, a travelling merchant came to the doors of the Northern Fortress. Perhaps it was a spy trying to get to my sweet darling, who knows, but what matters is that this person brought with them a collection of Hoshidan wares. Corrin, the little dear, picked the kiseru for me, and bought the leaves at the suggestion of the merchant. That is why I keep it, and why I use it and only it. It reminds me of my dear Corrin.”

 

Though Corrin lives yet, the kiseru is something of a memento, perhaps, and...

 

“I see,” says Selena. She bids her lady goodnight.

 

When she gets to her room she reaches for the box with her mother’s charm and her father’s pipe; she has not touched them in some time. It is silly and stupid, perhaps, but Selena feels a bit closer to her lady now, even though there is very little reason to. Clutching the pipe in her hands, Selena sighs. She just cannot shake these foolish feelings, it seems. Imagine, even something so simple as her lady keeping a pipe for sentimental reasons is enough to stir the wanting. And just because she too keeps a pipe, holds it amongst her most treasured possessions…

How pathetic.

Stroking her mother’s charm once more as she sets the pipe back down, Selena wonders if she is doomed to live a life of love unrequited, just as her mother had been.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

She has been working for Lady Camilla for a little over two years, and just when she thinks she is beginning to perfectly understand her lady, Selena finds that she does not.

And it is a _delightful_ discovery, to be sure.

Her lady has returned from the Northern Fortress. Perhaps she misses Corrin, but she has just been to see her darling sibling, so Selena rules that out. It is too late in the evening to feel idle—Selena herself had already been ready to sleep before her mistress’ summons called her here—and her lady does not appear to be drunk. Perhaps she is sad, perhaps she is stressed, but there is no tension in Lady Camilla’s face, nor any forlorn lines, so Selena rules those reasons out as well. Still, her lady blows rings of smoke from her kiseru, and Selena is confused. How many reasons can one person have for smoking their favourite pipe?

“Lady Camilla? Is everything okay?”

“Of course, dear girl,” Lady Camilla says, but there is a tremor in her voice that Selena doesn’t understand. It sounds vulnerable, but there is no reason for her lady to feel this way. Certainly not around Selena.

She feels her eyes falling towards her lady’s hand, the one holding the kiseru, and she tries again. “Are you certain, Lady Camilla?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you smoking your kiseru now?”

Camilla’s visible eye widens before she laughs, but it is not the confident, honeyed laughter that Selena has come to expect. It is different. Strange. “What is so unusual about that, my darling girl?”

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’d…”

“Selena, dear, please tell me, must there always be a reason why I do the things I do?” There is a new note in Lady Camilla’s voice, a playful one that feels different even from her usual flirtatiousness. It gives Selena a little thrill up her spine to hear, but she fights her temptations and struggles to keep her expression neutral. “Selena?”

“I-it’s not that, Lady Camilla, but…you’ve always given me a reason…before,” Selena says. Her lady’s eyebrow lifts. She’s said too much. She’s overstepped. “I’m sorry for—

To her surprise, Lady Camilla steps forward, walking until she is entirely in Selena’s space. “Care to guess then? The reason why I’m smoking now?”

“Well, you haven’t been drinking…and you don’t look sad. You just saw Corrin, so I’d assume it isn’t that. I mean, it might be that you’re idle, or stressed, perhaps, but you’ve not said anything. If anything, I’d guess that you’re a bit agitated but…I can’t be sure why.”

“You’ve been watching me rather closely, my adorable girl.” Why is Lady Camilla so close? “Is there any reason for that?” Lady Camilla’s hand is soft against her cheek— _why_ is Lady Camilla’s hand against her cheek?

“I…I…”

“I’m flattered that you would pay me such attention.” Lady Camilla’s voice is low and warm against her ear.

“Lady Camilla, I...” _Gods,_ of all the times to lose her tongue, _of course_ it would be now!

“Shh, my darling Selena.” Lady Camilla’s hand moves down until it is pressed against her jaw, guiding Selena’s face upward, and Selena cannot look away. “You want to know why I’m smoking, do you? Well you’re right…I’m agitated. But go on, ask me _why_.”

Her mistress is so close that if Selena so much as lifted her hand it would be met by the silk of Camilla’s nightgown. She thinks that her lady might let her…but, no. She can’t. Selena takes in a deep breath, inhaling more of the Hoshidan fumes before she speaks. “I don’t know why, Lady Camilla.”

 “Well, for one thing, darling, I’d like you to stop calling me Lady Camilla. My name will more than suffice.”

Selena wonders if the heat in the room is just her imagination or something else entirely, because she is only in a thin nightgown and yet her entire body is on fire. “B-but!”

“No buts, darling. Some might like for their title to fall from their lover’s lips but I—oopsies.” Camilla clicks her tongue and backs away from Selena so quickly that the redhead stumbles forward a bit.

“L-lover?! Lady Camilla, I—

For her part, Lady Camilla takes her own slip in stride, sighing deeply and reaching forward to stroke Selena’s cheek with longing before turning away. When she faces Selena once more, she is smiling, but sadly. “I seem to have gotten ahead of myself, but now you know…I apologize, my dear, if I have caused offence.”

“It’s not that,” Selena says, sound more sure of herself, more like _Severa_ than she has in a long time. “But I…this is all very sudden, you know? I can’t just—

“Oh, but I do have a chance, then?” Gone is any trace of sadness in her lady’s face, replaced with a beaming hope that Selena feels makes her mistress look even younger than the lack of her crown and armour.

Selena steadies herself. How is this happening? _How is this happening?_ “I…can I just. Um. Think about it, for a bit?”

Lady Camilla’s face falls for just a moment before she nods, still smiling, and says, “Of course…come to me with an answer whenever you’re ready. Take all the time you need, my precious Selena.” Selena feels her blush appear in full force at the difference of inflection that her mistress adds to the words. The possession in the tone is amplified, the doting almost overdone, and Selena can barely stutter out a proper goodnight without choking on her embarrassment and Camilla’s perfume and the fumes from the still-lit kiseru.

 

 

Still, she must admit that she is _more than pleased_ with how the evening has turned out, and a few nights later, she ventures to her lady’s door in the middle of the night; this time, without a summons. When she is let into _Camilla’s_ room she does not speak, but Camilla gets the message all the same. And if she doesn’t fully understand until they are lying on Camilla’s bed together, well, Selena doesn’t mind.

 

It gives her the opportunity to leave her answer on every inch of Camilla’s skin.

 

 

***

 

 

Selena is awoken by the familiar scent of burning Hoshidan leaves, and she wakes to find her lover seated at her desk, watching as Selena stirs.

“Did I wake you, darling? I’m sorry,” says Camilla, pouting in the redhead’s direction until Selena smiles.

She shakes her head, “It’s fine…but why are you smoking again?” She’s only half-teasing when she asks, and she realizes that she’s come to know so much—yet still so little—about Camilla through her relationship with the kiseru.

It’s kind of weird, but Selena doesn’t really care.

She’s got the girl just fine, hasn’t she?

Camilla grins, and Selena is presented with a very different, very _intimate_ memory of that same look from a vastly different angle—or at least, she assumes that it’s the same look. With Camilla, she can’t really be too sure. “Well, my dearest girl, what can I say? I’ve always enjoyed a good post-coital smokel.”

Selena flushes. “Camilla!”

Camilla’s smoky laugh fills her head, and Selena sighs. Waves of lilac hair bounce as the princess saunters towards her, and Selena does not know if she should sit up straighter or sink back down into the sheets. “Would you like to try it, darling?”

Selena considers the offered kiseru but shakes her head, an idea forming through the surrounding haze and the heady fumes. “I can think of a better use for my mouth right now, actually.”

“Oh?” asks Camilla.

“Want me to show you, _Camilla_?”

 

The kiseru is snuffed out. Camilla’s robe is tossed aside. As the bed dips to accommodate her lady’s weight, Selena stares. Camilla is beautiful. Camilla is perfect. Camilla is _hers._

Selena smiles and breathes in the last of the fumes as her princess draws near.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's how I'm kicking off Femslash February 2017.  
> Follow me [on Tumblr ](https://lazywritergirl.tumblr.com) for updates pertaining to the above and other projects, reblogs, ask memes, and other fun things. Or just to chat. I like to chat.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this (it was _supposed_ to be up yesterday)!


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